


Tempus Incognito

by FlamingLambo



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen, Lord Hood is annoyed at John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 20:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamingLambo/pseuds/FlamingLambo
Summary: John never did that that R&R Hood orderd him to, so Terrence comes up with a plan and conscripts Buck and Dare to do the babysitting.





	1. Operation: RESPITE

**Author's Note:**

> This started as Discord shenanigans, but things quickly got out of control and now it's an actual comedic short story, with a little smut planned for later.

Terrence strode into his office, slapping his hat down on the desk as he walked by. In all his decades of service, he’d never had to deal with such an infuriatingly good soldier. His new Leftenant scurried in after him, carrying a tablet, and stood at attention near the front of the desk as Lord Hood sank into his chair and let out a heavy sigh.

“Ramussen, coffee. Now. Spiked with some Kahlua if there’s any left.” The young lady saluted and stepped briskly back out of the office. Terrence rubbed his face and sat there, slouched in his chair, looking as if he were trying to burn a hole in the far wall with his eyes.

That boy. That _man_. Humanity’s hero, savior of the universe more times than was strictly necessary, had ignored a direct order to take shore leave. Not ‘been reluctant’, not ‘politely refused’, flat out ignored, as if he’d never gotten the orders in the first place. He’d just carried on saving the Galaxy’s backside yet again.

“What is it going to take?” Terrence murmured to himself as he sat up. Two knocks signaled the arrival of coffee with cookies; Le Petit Ecolier. If Parangosky could have her damn ginger snaps, he could indulge in a childhood favorite.

“Come!” He said with more force than he’d intended. Ramussen entered the office carrying the goods, and set them down on the desk just off to the Admiral’s right. Terrence pulled the tray closer, took one of the chocolate-dipped cookies and quickly dunked a corner into the coffee, ate it, and washed it down. The office was quiet for a moment as Lord Hood savored the faintest warmth of Kahlua-coffee as he listened to the ever-present hum of the spacecraft.

While he was pondering what he was going to do with the goody-two shoes Spartan II, an idea suddenly struck him. He smiled, and took another sip of his coffee.

“Ramussen, notes please. One copy as-is, a second copy to form of a mission briefing.”

“Sir!”

“And send copies of both to Veronica Dare, ONI. She’s going to _love_ this.”

 

*** 

 

“You’ve got to be _shitting_ me.” Dare sounded completely flabbergasted, even over the slightly grainy comm link.

“Are you telling me you won’t do it? You did so well with Buck,” His jab was met with a long silence. “All this is, is shore leave in disguise. Edward should be in between Spartan Ops, take him with you if you want. Might do John some good to have another Spartan around who knows how to have a good time.” Another long pause. Hood smiled; he'd suggested Edward Buck on purpose. Their relationship wasn't the biggest secret, after all.

“You can count on me, sir.”

 

***

 

Buck bounced on the balls of his feet, willing the lift to reach its destination quicker. He hadn’t seen Dare in months, and could barely contain himself at the thought of time with her. He still didn’t know what was going on, only that she’d told him to meet her aboard the UNSC _Infinity_ yesterday, and to expect to visit with Admiral Hood. Whatever it was, he could handle it. As long as he got to spend time with Dare.

The lift opened, and Buck walked down the corridor to the briefing room as fast as he could without looking like he’d shit his pants. Outside the door, he patted down his dress blues, took a few breaths to try and slow his hammering pulse, stood straight, and entered the briefing room.

Lord Hood sat at the head of the table, Dare a few chairs off to his right. Buck saluted the admiral.

“At ease, son. Take a seat, I’ll let Dare explain.”

As soon as Buck had laid eyes on her, his heart had tried to jump out of his chest again. Once more, he walked as quickly as he could toward her, and sat down. She was in her ONI dress blacks, hair up in her usual tight bun.

“What have we got…sir?” Dare covered her smile with one hand, and handed him the tablet with the other. He started to read the briefing, while also trying to covertly rub Veronica’s leg under the table. Hood cleared his throat, and Buck looked up.

Hood ticked his eyebrow and narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

 _I’m not stupid, son_ , the expression seemed to say. Buck gave his best impression of being both innocent, and a little offended that the Admiral could possibly think he was misbehaving right in front of him. Hood leaned forward, folded his hands just under his nose and gave Buck a dangerous, stormy look. Buck lifted his left hand and turned it several times.

_There, that better?_

As he continued to read, Buck could hear Veronica trying not to laugh as he looked more and more confused. After a few minutes, he leaned back in the chair, looking baffled.

“ _What_?” Now Dare laughed in earnest. Hood grunted.

“Your charge should be here in a few minutes. Keep the informal notes to yourselves, that’s an order.” Hood said.

“So…we’re being _or-dered_ to take a two week vacation and babysit humanity’s savior?” Buck clarified, still not quite sure he’d read and re-read everything quite right.

“The Master Chief may be a hero, but everyone needs time off, even legends. I want you two lovebirds to make sure that man does absolutely no ass-kicking for _four-teen god-damn days_ ,” He stabbed the desk with a finger to punctuate his words as his voice got louder, until he was almost yelling. He sat back and continued, quieter. “But as far as John needs to know, he’s serving as extra security for two undercover operatives keeping an eye on someone formerly linked with Insurrectionists, to determine whether or not he’s still a threat.”

“So…why all the cloak-and-dagger, not counting little miss ONI here? Why not just…give him shore leave?” He was met with a deadpan glare from the Admiral.

“You think we’d be here if I hadn’t done that already?” Hood said, a growl of annoyance in his voice. Buck looked at his lap and mouthed a silent ‘OH KAY’ as Dare rubbed her face.  Hood continued, only slightly less annoyed than before.

“You are not, under any circumstances, to reveal the true nature of these orders to John until your asses are back on a UNSC vessel, Pelican or otherwise. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Buck and Dare both saluted.

“Good.”

The door to the briefing room opened, and Terrence let out an audible groan as he put his face in his hands.

“Son, do you even _own_ a dress uniform anymore?” He said into his palms as John gave a crisp salute.

“If I do, I am currently unaware of its location, sir.”

“At least take your helmet off.” John didn’t move. “That’s an order.”

Buck had met John once, when Osiris had been tasked with retrieving the AWOL Blue Team. But he’d never seen his face. The Master Chief reached up and removed the helmet with a faint pop and a hiss of broken vacuum, and tucked it under his right arm.

He looked…normal. Of course he did, Buck thought. What did had he expected, some terrible mutant? His expression was flawlessly passive, but his eyes were sharp, and he could see the irises twitch slightly as the Spartan II took stock of the room.

Buck was still amazed at the things he noticed these days, like the imperceptible twitch of an eye, or the wrinkles and grooves that belied the Spartan II’s most frequently used expressions; he squinted and scowled a lot. Aside from the scar running across his left cheekbone and a few other, smaller marks here and there, Buck could almost imagine him as a gruff-but-friendly neighbor. Like the kind that scared kids, but was always there to help. He’d known someone like that, once.

By now, Buck had gotten used to the stab of pain in his chest whenever something reminded him of home…Veronica must have picked up on it as well, because she took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together, and gave a gentle squeeze. God, he’d missed her.

She let go of his hand and took the tablet now offered to her by Lord Hood, and walked it over to The Master Chief.

“Go ahead and give that a read, then we can discuss.” Veronica said matter-of-factly. John nodded politely as he took the tablet, and Veronica sat back down next to Buck. He watched John’s face as his intense blue eyes flitted over the screen, narrowing slightly. That and the occasional crease of his brow were the only readable expressions he presented. After a few seconds, he looked up.

“When do we start?” John asked, directing his question to Veronica.

“We leave at 0500. You’ve got about twenty hours to get what you’ll need together, I’ll see that we find some suitable civilian-style clothes in your size…” Veronica chewed her lip some as she looked John over. “Until then, you’re free to visit the mess or hit the gym. Just don’t go running off again.”

“Ma’am,” John nodded, then looked toward Hood. “Sir.” He saluted, turned and left. Veronica and Buck got up, saluted as well, and followed the Spartan II out the door. As it closed behind them, Buck looked to see John disappear down the far end of the hall, then pulled Dare close to him and pinched her butt.

“Oh, BUCK!” She hissed as she turned and swatted him with the tablet. He could tell she was trying not to smile. “Keep it holstered, ground-pounder!”

“Give me a chance and I can pound more than just dirt...but you know that firsthand.” She laughed softly as he pulled her close and kissed her gently. They looked up as Admiral Hood came out of the briefing room, gave them a look that Buck read as _I'm fine with you two knocking boots, but keep it down_ , then turned and started back to his office.

“Duty first, then you can pound whatever you like. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some Spook-fu to work.” She patted his cheek and turned down the corridor. Buck briefly wondered where the hell she’d picked up the term ‘Spook-fu’, then followed after her.

This was going to be _great_.


	2. Pros and Cons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is uncomfortable; day-to-day civilian life is not his forte. Luckily, he's got Buck and Dare for teammates.

 

John absentmindedly watched as the puff of his breath floated away in the cold air, and tried to scrunch down into his parka some more as he walked. He wasn’t cold, just…exposed. His cargo khakis were too flimsy, and even the dual layer of his black tee over a grey waffle-weave thermal didn’t feel right…especially since the rough fabric of the thermal undershirt chafed sometimes.

The trip to Desdoron V had been mostly quiet, save for Buck and Dare’s flirting. He’d spent the majority of his time in his own head, wondering why _he’d_ been picked to fill the role of ‘extra muscle’. Personally, he thought there were more important matters that needed to be dealt with, but it also wasn’t his job to question orders. _Just complete the mission so you can get back to Blue Team_ , he told himself.

He readjusted his duffel and continued to size up the town they’d be doing most of their work in; he had to shake himself out of the habit of watching the lower left of his field of vision; where the motion tracker usually was, which also served to remind him yet again of how exposed he felt…especially without the anonymity of a helmet.

Granite Bluff was a medium-sized city with a moderate but lively tourist scene. It was a little-known gem for those who wanted to avoid crowds, especially during the busy season since most people came to Desdoron for the semi-famous ski resorts higher in the mountains. To avoid undue attention, they’d arrived at the busiest time, but the crowds in town were still manageable. Not that he’d have any trouble finding Buck or Dare if they got separated.

Their hotel was toward the edge of the commercial centers of town, surrounded by single story office blocks. The one directly across from them was where the target worked, and Intel said he liked to frequent a bar a few blocks away on most weekends. Buck held the door for Dare as they approached the lobby, and John followed them inside.

The receptionist looked up as they walked into the lobby, and did a double take. Apparently it wasn’t every day that two men almost seven feet tall walked into the hotel. John surveyed the lobby, noting entry points and hiding spots. Dare and Buck unzipped their parkas, and Dare went to get the keycard.

“How may I help you?” The young lady asked, still eyeing John and Buck.

“Yes, I called about half an hour ago about a room for three? Should be under ‘Veronica Dare’.”

John marveled somewhat at how relaxed and smooth Dare was. If she was nervous about being in this new area, she did a superb job of hiding it.

“You uh, gonna take your coat off there, Johnny Boy?” Buck nudged him. John turned his head a little, and glared halfheartedly at the Spartan IV.

“Might as well.” John sighed and pulled the hood back, then undid the faux bear-tooth clasps down the front so he could unzip the heavy coat. _More and more exposed…_

For this mission, John had been given an alias. ‘John’ was common enough, but ‘117’ was definitely not a normal surname; he’d been assigned ‘Dietrich’ instead. And for some reason, Buck had decided on ‘Johnny’ as a nickname. ‘Feels more natural,’ he’d said. Regardless of how ‘natural’ it might be, he wasn’t fond of it.

Dare returned with a wispy sigh, keycards in hand.

“One for you, and one for you. 14th floor, room 1410.” She said. John took the card, and slipped it into his pocket before re-shouldering his duffel.

 

*** 

 

The room was large, at least compared to what he was used to. He was either roughing it in the field, stuffed in a single small room with a bed that was far too small, or in a communal bunk, also usually furnished with beds that let his feet hang off the end. Dare saw him looking over the accommodations, and smiled.

“I made sure to get a room with Spartan-sized beds. I told you there was a good reason I was being picky.” She stroked Buck’s cheek, then gave it a pinch.

“You are absolutely my favorite Spook,” Buck grinned and grabbed her around the waist. “But I wonder if they’re Spartan-proofed for other activities?”

John cleared his throat.

“Thanks for the consideration, Sir. Veronica.” Dare chuckled as she extricated herself from Buck and carried her suitcase to the bed.

“Looks like I’ve got some things to teach you about blending in,” She said as she shucked her parka and tossed it aside. “But that’ll come later.”

In lieu of anything productive to do, John watched as Veronica set up a zoom lens and video recorder at the window, then adjusted the blinds so there was a clear line of sight to the office across the street. Buck had just returned from the bathroom when John’s stomach let out a loud growl.

“That makes two of us, Johnny Boy. Hope I’m not the only one who was eyeballing that café on the way in.” Buck said in agreement. John’s only response was a stare.

“If he’s hungry enough for his body to speak for him, he’s probably not in the mood for conversation,” Dare sighed as she stood up and grabbed her parka. “And _I_ already had that café penciled in as a good spot to eat while we spy.” She waltzed over to Buck and feigned a kiss, then ducked and threw her parka back on.

“Eat now, smooch later, soldier.” She quipped as she left the room. Buck turned and gestured for him to follow, so he picked up his parka and closed the door behind him.

As he took more mental notes on the building’s layout on the way down, John also noticed the receptionist was staring again. That might be a problem, he’d have to mention it to Dare.

 

***

 

The café was small and quiet. The white-and-pastel colors brightened the small space, and calm piano music wafted through the dining area. John took note of all the people present, as well as the layout of the tables and the emergency exit. A gruff-looking man of Asian descent looked up from behind the counter.

“Welcome! Please, take some menus and seat yourselves! I’ll take your drink orders in just a moment!”

“Thank you, sir!” Buck waved as Veronica took three menus from the stand near the open door. They made their way toward a large booth and took their seats, Veronica handing each of them a menu. While she and Buck began to peruse the plastic with the intensity of someone reading orders, John stared blankly.

Having never experienced an honest-to-god restaurant in his life, he felt lost. It wasn’t a feeling he relished. Normally, he and the other Spartans ate in the mess like every other soldier, had MREs, or supplement packets when there wasn’t time to stop and eat.

He knew that he had a menu in his hands. He knew it told him what the kitchen had on offer…but what was he supposed to do with it? Normally he’d walk up to a counter with a tray and was served a (limited) choice of pre-prepped foods, and that was the end of it. Nobody cared what he _wanted_ , and as far as he knew, the only thing he ever wanted was to complete the mission and _win_. But this mission was so outside of his particular skillset…

“You okay there, Johnny?” Buck asked quietly. John met his gaze, and gave the smallest of nods. The man from the counter waddled up, wielding a tablet and stylus.

“What can I get you to drink today?”

“Hot Jasmine tea, please.” Dare said, rubbing her hands together.

“Coffee, and a little cream here.” Buck said. The man, whose nametag read ‘Min-Sun’, tapped at the tablet as he turned to John.

“And for you, sir?”  An awkward silence settled over the booth. John looked down for a moment…then over at Buck.

“Iced tea for my cousin.” The Spartan quipped with a grin. _Cousin?!_

Min-Sun tapped the order into the tablet, then looked back to John.

“New here, sir?” Thankfully, Buck interjected again.

“Somewhat. This is Johnny’s first leave in a long time, so he’s…a bit fresh from the front,” He reached over and rested his hand on John’s. "The poor muffin."

Buck managed to feign worry in his voice as he patted John's hand. Min-Sun nodded empathetically, and left to get their drinks. John was still stuck on how he could pass for one of Buck’s relatives… _where did cousins fit, again_? As soon as Min-Sun disappeared into the kitchen, Veronica snorted into her hands.

"' _Poor muffin_ '? Jesus Ed, he's not a Pomeranian!" She giggled. Now Buck screwed up his face in mock offense.

"You don't know! We - _Soldiers_ are just big softies under all of the armor and murder training!" John’s ears caught the near slip, and for a moment he tensed. The last thing they needed was their cover blown before they’d been planetside for six hours.

While his companions teased and flirted, John gave the café another look. The emergency exit was at his back, and was blocked by a glass-brick wall at the end of the bar. _Decent cover if we need to get out in a hurry_ , he noted. Thinking tactically helped him relax, and he felt a little better.

Min-Sun came back shortly with drinks, and a teapot for Veronica. He then asked if they were ready to order. Before John could work himself into a ball of nerves, Buck jumped in again.

“I’m going to have the seafood Udon, and my cousin here would like the Turkey ramen bowl.” Min-Sun tapped away at the tablet once more, taking down Dare’s order as well, then left again.

The restaurant was quiet, but John didn’t find that a comfort. He was too used to the loud and bawdy Marines and ODSTs that usually filled the mess, and the lack of it in an unfamiliar-but-strangely-familiar setting put him on edge. He was vaguely aware of Buck and Veronica conversing about how long it had been since their last date, and what a shame it was that they had to stick to some sort of decorum for the mission. John took a sip of his tea.

It wasn’t unpleasant; it was ever so slightly bitter, with an herby aftertaste. Not bad, but not something he’d crave either. An electronic bell tinkled as a man and little girl pushed under the _noren_ and came into the café, took menus, and seated themselves nearby. John added them to the list of potential threats; terrorists were not above using children as shields, or worse.

“How’s your tea?” Dare asked, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Slightly bitter.” It was Buck’s turn to put his hand over his face.

“‘Bitter’ he says…you can doctor it, if you like. Add sugar, or cream.”

John felt his face flush ever so slightly. He was beyond out of his depth, and he knew it. He was about to give a half-assed reply when Min-Sun returned to the table with a huge tray balanced precariously on one hand. He was followed by a younger man, in his early thirties maybe, who was fretting profusely.

“ _Appa_ , please! Let me help, you’re going to drop something!” He said as he popped out a small stand for the tray and helped steady it. John had to make a conscious effort to keep his eyes from going wide at the sight of _food_.

There were three large bowls on the tray. One filled with thick noodles, one with wispy white ones and another with something like curly spaghetti. The thick-noodle bowl had skin-on salmon and fried shrimp floating next to other, unidentifiable-but-tasty-looking slices of what might have been bread. The curly-spaghetti bowl contained 4 slices of roast turkey, sliced carrots and greens as well as the breadlike stuff. The last bowl had various cuts of beef floating in the broth, as well as scattered greens; John caught a whiff of something sweet.

For a moment, his vulnerability and discomfort was forgotten, then Buck waved a hand to get his attention.

“You OK there? You gotta share you know!” He said as Min-Sun handed out the bowls.

“Enjoy!” he said as he backed away and left them to eat.

John watched for a brief moment as Buck and Dare took their chopsticks out of the paper sleeves, popped them apart, and began to eat.

John had heard of chopsticks before, but never seen them used. He mimicked as he watched, taking them out of the paper sleeve, pulling the free ends apart so that the bases popped free, then settling them into his right hand. After a few tries, he was able to grab a piece of turkey with confidence.

It tasted like heaven. The meat was moist and tender, not dry and overcooked like the chicken had been on the _Infinity_. In five seconds flat, he’d finished the turkey.

“Better than what the swabbie cooks ever made, huh?” Dare asked around a mouthful of noodles. John surprised himself with a nod that was more enthusiastic than he intended.

She folded her chopsticks gracefully toward her wrist and pointed at the ‘bread’.

“That’s fried tofu, by the way. Caught me by surprise the first time I had any. Looks like it’s going to fall apart if you breathe wrong, but it actually takes some chewing.”

John worked his way through the rest of the dish; the noodles were slipperier than he anticipated, and it took a little more practice to get the hang of grabbing them so that they didn’t slip back into the broth, which was also surprisingly deep of flavor. He tried to go slow, but had drained his bowl well ahead of his companions.

“Good shit, huh?” Buck said. He seemed genuinely pleased that John had enjoyed the noodles.

“Very.”

He shouldn’t have been so surprised at how much better he felt now that he’d eaten. He found himself listening to Buck and Dare talk with interest, even _participating_ a little as he sipped his glass of tea. He even _laughed_ once. It was quiet and reserved, but it was more than he’d done in literal years.

Half an hour and a refill later, his companions decided it was time to head back. While he had enjoyed the downtime more than he thought, John was ready to get started on surveillance in earnest. The Spartan and the Spook shuffled about in preparation to leave, John decided to finish the last bit of his tea.

As he tilted the cup further to get the last sip, the ice suddenly shifted. The cup funneled the cacophony directly at his face, and that coupled with the sudden and unforeseen movement startled him. He acted on reflex, instinctively slamming his fists shut and bringing them up in a defensive posture, which had the side effect of crushing the Perspex cup like it had been made of toilet paper.

John was acutely aware of the silence that followed. He could feel eyes on him from every angle except his back, and he was almost overcome with a sudden and desperate urge to duck out through the emergency door. The room suddenly seemed far too crowded, cluttered and _quiet_. Off to his left, the girl with her father let out a quiet whimper. His stomach clenched as the faces of civilians and military personnel wearing expressions of masked terror invaded his mind, and it took him a moment to force them back.

He was supposed to _protect_ people like her. He swallowed, his chest tight, and lowered his fists. Veronica quickly and smoothly got up and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go back to the hotel.” She said quietly. The Spartan hesitated as he stood, his legs suddenly shaky from the rush of adrenalin and anxiety. As they left, John overheard the man talking to his daughter.

“Shh, it’s ok! He can’t help that it scared him! Remember when Papi came back, he was easily startled and had to go away to the doctor to get help for what happened in the war?” His voice was calm, with a hint of pain. He continued to listen as they passed through the outdoor dining area.

“Yeah…So, he’s like Papi? Because he’s still scared and sad?”

“Yes. His PTSD may be different, but he’s human just like Papi and I bet he’d be hurt to know he scared you.”

John never caught the reply if there was one, but his discomfort shifted. He felt bad that his startle reaction had scared a child who probably couldn’t comprehend why he’d reacted to ice with violence. At least her father had seemed to know something and put it into terms the girl could understand.

 

***

 

The group walked quickly back to the hotel, and nobody said a word until they were back at the room, when Veronica approached him.

“Hey, you all right?”

“Yes…the ice. It startled me.”

“Shit, I didn’t think to warn you…it’s such a common thing. But even when you _know_ it’s coming, you’ll still jump out of your skin. No wonder you got defensive,” she gently laid a hand on his bicep and rubbed the muscle some, and he relaxed a little. Buck appeared beside her.

“There’s nothing really to do at the moment, so if you want you can relax, or have a shower; whichever helps. I’m partial to a scalding-hot, twenty-minute shower myself.” his face was worried but honest.

“ _Twenty minutes_?” John blurted out. He felt his face flush slightly; anxiety was no excuse for lack of self-control, after all. Now it was Veronica’s turn to voice surprise.

“Are you telling me you’ve never taken more than a basic Two-Minute Spitshine?” John shook his head, and her look turned determined.

“All right, sir. Strip!”

“Excuse me?!” Buck yelped in shock. Dare glanced sidelong at him, then pinned John where he was standing with her eyes.

“Strip, and get in that god damn shower! I’m going to set a ten minute timer and if I hear the water stop _one fucking nanosecond_ before it goes off, I’m going to tie you up and leave you in there until it does. Understood?” John stared blankly.

“I DIDN’T HEAR A ‘YES SIR’, SOLDIER!” Veronica bellowed suddenly. Buck and John both jumped and snapped up straight.

“Yes, sir!”  


John quickly exited his clothing and disappeared into the bathroom. Once he closed the door behind him, he paused.

 _Ten minutes?_ What the hell was he going to do the whole time? He started the water, and heard a soft knock at the door.

“Time starts now. Take it slow, enjoy yourself and relax.” Dare’s voice was softer now. John was both impressed, and a little shocked, at her sudden transformation from small, blonde ONI operative to Drill Sergeant. As steam wafted from the shower, he stepped in. The hot water felt like heaven as it worked its way through his shoulders, warming hands and feet he hadn’t realized were cold. Then he discovered the shower head was detachable…and had a setting labelled ‘massage’.

 

***

 

Dare smiled smugly as she turned to Buck. He was sitting on the foot of their bed now, and seemed stuck somewhere between shock and more shock.

“Oh come on, Eddie. I had to figure out how to get him out of the way before we wound up giving him an indecent public display of affection.” She cooed as she shucked her wool sweater. Buck blinked stupidly.

“Oh. _Ohh_.” Veronica leaned over, her hands on his thighs.

“Unless you’re not up for a quickie.”

“ _Fuck that_.” Buck pulled his shirt off as Veronica quickly undid his fly.

 

***

 

John sighed, and wiped the mirror with his towel. Somebody had thought to leave his suitcase just inside the bathroom door, but had gone by the time he stuck his head out of the shower to see who it was.

Buck had been right. The white noise of the water combined with the heat and that most _glorious_ massage function had him in a much better state of mind. A strong desire for sleep kept trying to blanket his mind, but he pushed it aside as he dressed. As he hung his towel, he heard a faint thump and a shriek from outside.

 Steam billowed from the door as he exited the bathroom, dressed in military sweats. Buck was much the same, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed with a pillow aimed at Veronica.

“So, Johnny! Feel better?” Buck tossed the pillow aside.

“Yes, thanks.”

“Good,” Dare smiled and seemed satisfied. Just as he started to wonder why she’d been so adamant that he indulge himself in such a manner, she spoke up. “After seeing your reaction in the café, I wanted to make sure you calmed down and got some rest. You can’t do a recon job if you can’t think straight.”

 _That’s why I’ve had a hard time staying composed_ , he thought. Now it made sense. He was worn out, burned out, and only now had it clicked that his mind needed rest. He’d need to be sharp so he could be sure not to miss anything. _I’m alone now, I’ve got to do this alone._

“I did a little digging,” She continued. “Found a place we can eat out that you’d probably like better. Owner is ex-UNSC, runs the place like a mess hall. She started the restaurant specifically to cater to soldiers, so the place is always full of marines and ODSTs on leave.” John nodded appreciatively.

He sat on the bed, and started slightly; there was far more give to the mattress than to a military cot or bunk. He tested the firmness with his hands, bounced a little and wiggled a bit. _Did all non-military people sleep like this?_ His thought was interrupted by a cackle from Veronica.

“Ignore her, she’s sleep-deprived.” Buck had his arms around her as she laughed.

John pulled back the comforter and curled up under the covers. He was used to the scratchy standard-issue navy blankets, and this was a welcome change. Before he could put further thought into civilian bedding, sleep finally overcame him.


End file.
